


Window to the Soul

by FaeMytho



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 19:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21451264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeMytho/pseuds/FaeMytho
Summary: From a smile alone could he garner even the darkest insecurity, the lightest of hopes. And while he may have used his smile to hide his true thoughts (not that they varied much), for others, it was the exact opposite.It was all for the wear of the smile.
Kudos: 106





	Window to the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> jhkgjhlfjh so i have no explanation for this, i got sucked in deep when the pilot episode dropped
> 
> and i have a favorite
> 
> most of this is just me rambling from the perspective of alastor about the characters and about himself - and what he thinks of them.

Alastor was not daft. While he lived his life as an entertainer, a broadcaster, a reporter, he was far from the misconceptions one may have had upon first thought from his profession. He had wormed his way into the pentagram and made himself known. He established connections, networked, and killed off his threats in record time, and for this reason was known as one of the most feared denizens of hell.

He prided himself on his silver tongue and his dashing, classy appearance, finding the power and allure it gave him almost intoxicating. He barely spared a second of a thought to wonder if he was stroking his own ego by thinking that he could take over the minds of hell with his charm, wit, his way with words. And of course he could, but it was hardly his fault that the demons down here simply had no class. It was not as though he were lacking in the skill to twist and manipulate and turn someone’s head, certainly not. It was merely that the other demons spoke crassly, lived crassly, and tended to listen to power and great deals of magic over the words he preferred to weave. They grovelled and snarled and fought like starving dogs over the last scrap of meat. He’d never liked dogs, but it was no matter, either way. Beyond his words and his charm, he had _ power _ too.

He may have been a simple radio broadcaster, and had no need for appearances since nobody could see him, but really, where was the fun in that? He was an _ entertainer _ , and he sought the very thing he aimed to give. He figured he may as well look the part, dressed in his pinstripe suit coat and topped off with the cherry of a smile. The smile pulled the whole ensemble together, he felt. The look was never complete without it. You were never fully dressed without a smile; perhaps it was that you were not dressed at _ all _ without one. He felt so strongly about it that when he looked for the smiles of his new associates, he looked for their souls within them.

But his new associates never smiled often, not really. Save for Charlie and Angel Dust (and really, he was being generous, calling that sort of _ grimacing smirk _ a smile), none of the others that now worked beneath him ever really smiled. Now Husk, good old Husker, he already knew. He didn't care for a smile from him, already knowing nearly everything about the grumpy cat. But as for the others…

Vaggie never smiled around him, or at him. But he _ had _seen her smile, the way her mouth slowly turned up whenever Charlie spoke to her. Her smiles were full of protective love, protective anger. He could garner the kind of person she was from that alone, and her weakness was Charlie.

Charlie, on the other hand, was too easy. Even without being the princess of hell, her smiles were wide and cheerful and full of hope. She truly did believe that people could be good, even after their irrefutable damnation, and were it not for the context of hell, he might have said she was a true angel. A laughable statement, though he was not one to beat around the bush.

Angel Dust was an entirely different matter. The spider demon's smile was so smug, so indifferent, and it spoke volumes about Angel, even as his own actions said a lot in tandem. Angel was smug, self-centered, and cared only for himself. While it wasn't an unusual character to be, especially in hell, it was also different than the usual hedonistic pleasure seekers he had seen before. There was something softer behind it, something that might be fun to grasp, choke, slice open, and peel apart. Angel was weak behind his pleasure seeking smile. They all were.

All from a smile. Perhaps this meant that the smile was the true crux of a person's soul. From a smile alone could he garner even the darkest insecurity, the lightest of hopes. And while he may have used his smile to hide his true thoughts (not that they varied much), for others, it was the exact opposite.

Charlie was a ray of light, a beam of hope, but she was insecure, unsure when faced with doubt. It certainly didn't stop her from trying. He was proud to say that she was the only reason the hotel had caught his attention. Her performance on the picture show was unlike anything he'd seen before, and he was rightfully intrigued by her, ever watchful, waiting to see.

Vaggie was reserved and cold, a front for the warm spring of love she only showed in private. He didn't need to sneak in on her and Charlie to know what Vaggie was like when they were on their own. Besides, he was a _ gentleman _. Her own mannerisms gave herself away, with her tiny warmth of public affection towards Charlie and Charlie's delighted reactions back. She was angry, and he couldn't help but wonder if she had lost someone close to her in the past. It would certainly explain her over-protective nature, and how she adored Charlie's passion to the point of defending it with her own reputation on the line. Not that Alastor thought she really cared about her reputation.

Angel Dust was a simple case, and yet he was a curiosity Alastor didn't want to touch even with a fifty fool pole. The prostitute was an entertainer, a performer, and perhaps that was why Alastor tolerated him, apart from his promiscuity. He could respect the entertainment perspective, but the way Angel went about it was gaudy and blatant, and frankly, a waste of his time. He had far better things to do than wonder about the spider demon. Maybe if he weren't so provocative or whiny whenever rejected, Alastor might have cared to wonder more about why he was at the hotel in the first place.

He had only known them all for a day, and yet, they were like open books, with pages full of secrets they thought they'd hidden in plain sight for his eyes to see. It had been laughably easy to gain Charlie's trust and flip through every page of her life, for example. Not that he had any malicious intentions in mind, of course.

It was all for the wear of the smile.


End file.
